


Old Time Rock n' Roll

by moonymistress, Yvesriba



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Illustrations, M/M, Post-Episode: Good Omens: Lockdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonymistress/pseuds/moonymistress, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yvesriba/pseuds/Yvesriba
Summary: It's July 1st and Aziraphale is going to wake Crowley up from his nap. But he's in for a surprise...[written bymoonymistress, illustrated byYvesriba]
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 43
Collections: AwakeTheSnake





	Old Time Rock n' Roll

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Daily Crowley, July 2020](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25039684) by [moonymistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonymistress/pseuds/moonymistress), [Yvesriba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yvesriba/pseuds/Yvesriba). 



> [Yvesriba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yvesriba/pseuds/Yvesriba) asked for prompts, so I sent them [this video](https://youtu.be/A3XdLTBcYYM). Because Niles from The Nanny dancing in his underwear is like the best thing ever, and no one can tell me that Crowley wouldn't do that as well.  
> This fic happened when I saw their wonderful art, and then they made even [_more_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25039684/chapters/60751375) brilliant art! ❤️

_Mayfair, London, July 1st 2020_

Aziraphale was in an excellent mood. Today was the day. It was finally July. 

Strolling along the pavement of a certain bustling Mayfair street, he was whistling to himself as he imagined his reunion with his dear demon friend. Crowley had guessed this whole dreadful lockdown business would be over by now, and while that wasn't strictly true, the restrictions were at least being lifted enough to make a nearly normal life possible again. Not wanting to risk Crowley waking up on his own and deciding the restrictions were still too tight, Aziraphale had taken it upon himself to wake his friend. He'd done enough waiting, and he had plans. 

He'd spent three months all alone in his bookshop, two of them without even the occasional phone call. A lot of time to think about his immortal life's choices and how he desired his future to go. Their future, really, he thought as he miracled open the door to Crowley's building. Because that was what he craved. He wanted to spend his inordinately long life with the demon. And not just as friends, but as... lovers, if Crowley would still have him after all this time. He knew that Crowley had loved him for hundreds, no, thousands of years. And if Aziraphale was completely honest with himself, he'd felt the same for nearly as long. But he'd been in denial for the longest time and then, after the church incident in the 1940's, too scared to act on his feelings. Even after the averted Apocalypse, he'd been too much of a coward to say or do something that would change their dynamic. And then came that woeful phone call, where he'd turned him away once more. He'd put Crowley through so much pain!

"Well, no more of that," he vowed, as he got on the elevator that would take him up to the demon's flat. He would tell him today that he was finally ready to be more than just friends, to love him out in the open, like Crowley deserved. Aziraphale just hoped that he wasn't too late. He nervously fiddled with his pinkie ring, waiting for the elevator ride to end.

When it finally did and the elevator doors slid open, the first thing he noticed was some kind of... bebop blasting from behind the closed door to the flat.[1]

So Crowley was awake already? How fortunate! That saved him the hassle of trying to wake the snake. Aziraphale snickered at his own joke and knocked on the door. He waited. Nothing. The bebop continued blaring at a tremendous volume. He knocked again. Waited some more. Shouted "Crowley!" for good measure. Still no answer. 

Very well, if Crowley insisted on making such a racket, it was his own fault if Aziraphale had to break in, he justified to himself while he miracled the flat's door open as well. 

The angel was not prepared for what he saw when the door swung open. 

Crowley was… dancing. Quite appealingly. That in itself wasn't surprising. What was highly unusual though, was the state of undress the demon was in. Crowley stood with his back to him, so Aziraphale took the time to drink in every delicious detail. His dear friend wore a dress shirt as black as the night, from its loose fit aziraphale guessed it must have been unbuttoned. This theory was supported by the fact that, above his sock-clad feet, his long, lean legs were completely bare. The angel let his gaze wander slowly upwards, mesmerised by the sway of his hips in his underpants… Were those little snakes on his boxers?! Aziraphale's heart practically burst with want and giddiness. How utterly adorable![2]

A bottle of red wine was in Crowley's hands, being twirled around like the singer of a rock band might do with his microphone, then gently lowered into a picnic basket… When suddenly the front of those boxers was visible. There seemed to be a little red snake right where Crowley's not-so-little effort was rapidly growing underneath the fabric. Aziraphale stared. 

So transfixed was he, that he hadn't realised the swaying had stopped. He did notice when the bebop suddenly stopped playing, however. Swallowing around a suddenly much too dry throat, the angel slowly dragged his eyes upwards, over the demon's slim but surprisingly sculpted chest, the long neck that begged to be nibbled, those lips that he'd longed to feel underneath his for as long as he could remember, until he finally met golden serpentine eyes. The demon's trademark sunglasses were nestled in his flaming red hair; the light glinting off them made it look as though he'd never lost his halo. Crowley's expression was shocked, but he regained composure quickly enough. One corner of his mouth pulled up in a smirk while his pupils became, if possible, even more slitted. 

"You realise of course now I'm going to have to kill you," he hissed in a low, raspy voice.[3]

Aziraphale's brain short-circuited. There went his carefully laid-out plans. Goodbye, poetic and heartwarming declaration of love. Au revoir, slow and deliberate seduction. Adios, grovelling for forgiveness at his demon's feet. Instead, all that the angel managed was an equally raspy, "Or you could kiss me instead." 

Crowley's face went shocked again, then extremely pleased in rapid succession. He took three quick strides, advancing on him like the predator he loved to pretend he was. He hesitated for just a second before he slowly leaned into the angel's space, giving him one last chance to back away. "I rather suggest you go with the second option and just kiss me already, my dearest boy," Aziraphale said. 

Crowley nodded. 

And kiss him, he did. 

_The End_

_Footnotes:_

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_1 Of course, to Aziraphale, any music written after the 1920's was bebop. To the discerning ear, this was most decidedly NOT bebop, but the very brilliant and extremely well known "Old Time Rock & Roll" by Bob Seger.[return to text]_

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_2 No, he was never going to mention the adorableness to Crowley. Aziraphale might have been soft, but certainly not stupid.[return to text]_

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_3 Note that this was probably meant to sound menacing, but it came out utterly wrecked and just served to turn the angel on even more.[return to text]_


End file.
